


But Which of Us is the Beast?

by orphan_account



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Cute and Sad, Fluff(?), M/M, cryptid!dirk au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 02:55:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10453377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dirk Gently au where Dirk is the local cryptid living in the Seattle wilderness, and Todd is a cryptid hunter who’s looking for his claim to fame. Todd is dead set on capturing and killing Dirk in order to get the media exposure he wants, but changes his mind when Dirk saves him from dying of hypothermia.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE credit for this fic goes to tumblr users princessparadoxical and quingigillion

You can’t live in Seattle without eventually finding out about the local cryptid. Be it through an overheard conversation in a local bar, a bit of filler from a local news station, or by the rare firsthand experience.

Todd found out about the thing—some called it a bat, some called it a moth—through an internet article about the beast wander out of the woods and spooking some teenagers in the middle of the night.

~~~

When he first walks into the forest, Todd is armed to the teeth. He’s ready to kill this thing that’s terrorizing the local townspeople. He’s ready for the fame and glory and the money he’ll finally have when he retrieves the body of this beast; money that he can use to pay his parents back, pay for Amanda’s meds, maybe even to pay to fix his car after Dorian ravaged it.

He heads out and starts camping, watches his supplies dwindle as every night is colder as the one before. He’s just about to pack up and return home when on the last night a storm rumbles in, ripping away his tent. He’s forced to watch the last of his food and medkit go tumbling into the inky darkness.

It’s then that the cryptid appears, silhouetted against the sky as lightning strikes behind it. Somewhere between a bat and the legendary moth man, it spreads enormous wings and lunges at Todd, who can only stand there as his imminent death descends towards him, all hid weapons washed away by the lashing rain. He closes his eyes and thinks of Amanda, at a loss for another positive thing in his life.

The cryptid doesn’t kill him. Slender bony hands tipped in long claws that are carefully angled away from Todd’s skin grip his body, and he’s tugged purposefully and determinedly into the blackness. He can’t see properly, stumbling his way across the slick forest floor, as the creature continues to drag him behind itself.

A cave appears up ahead, and Todd braces himself for what horrors may lie inside, rotting carcasses and brittle bones stripped of meat. He lights up his only flare once inside the rocky cavern, away from the rain, watching as the cryptid screeches and scuttles away from the light. Water slides thickly down the craggy walls but the floor is relatively dry, and covered with … fruit skins. Bananas, watermelon, oranges, grapefruits.

It’s not carnivorous.

He waits for the flare to die down into a single smoldering point, flickering red shadows dancing over the cave, and tries not to shiver as his wet clothes cling to him. He waits patiently as the creature appears again, milky eyes blinking against the light as it approaches cautiously. It’s something like a bat and a human merged together, Todd can imagine a real vampire looking like this, a monstrous cross of features. Still it’s eating fruit, a fruit bat rather than anything carnivorous or bloodsucking.

If it’s not malicious, Todd wonders however, then why attack the teenagers, or the other townspeople?

One wing is folded neatly behind the beast as it cocks its head and shuffles closer to Todd; the other drags filmy over the harsh rock floor, and Todd can see a weeping gash splitting it down the middle.

Oh. It’s injured.

It throws various pieces dry clothes at Todd, and he has to push it back, gently, as he tries to get changed without prying eyes watching him, using a rather fetching pink dress to towel off his hair. When he’s done he sits and studies the  _thing_  in front of him, its pale skin and tattered clothes and the handsome face distorted by long sharp canines and almost sightless eyes.

It’s nothing like he’s ever seen before.

He clears his throat, about to attempt to make contact, when the creature opens its mouth. He prepares himself for some otherworldly shriek, and can only blink at it when it speaks, in the normal tone of a normal man, and attempts to twist its face into something like a smile.

‘ _Hi_!’ It yaps.

~~~

Fruit bat cryptid Dirk circles the local towns looking for company and only ends up scaring good-for-nothing teenagers and oh, does that  _hurt._

Dirk tries again and again to smile at Todd and only succeeds in baring his fangs

his sight isn’t good but he sees Todd grimace in response and assumes that this is what all humans look like when they’re pleased (he’s gifted Todd with dry clothes and the freshest fruit he can find, it’s an offering and Todd’s accepted it and that  _has_  to mean something).

Todd remembers reading somewhere a million years ago that fruit bats are the most vocal of all the bat species, and Dirk is living up to this entirely; he swing between rapid sentences and barely and pauses for breath. His high-pitched clicks seem to echo around the cave in a way that their voices don’t

(Todd also remembers reading that fruit bats stay close to each other for safety and for warmth, and from where Todd’s sitting it doesn’t appear that Dirk has much of either)

Todd realizes, after the 4th night of Dirk insistently pressing himself up next to him, too warm and too eager, that maybe Dirk is simply  _lonely_. He always chirrups his way through his stories with Todd as he huddles up against him in the driest part of the cave, hands gesturing expansively, but Todd can’t help notice he never talks about interactions. Even the animals in the forest tend to avoid him. They only skitter away, terrified.

It’s when Todd gives up and bandages his wing that something really seems to have changed. He doesn’t really have enough supplies for anything more than a quick fix, his own med kit lost somewhere on the muddy forest floor. Dirk raided a pharmacy for supplies a couple weeks before, but he didn’t know what to get and ended up with more bright children’s toys and lipsticks than anything useful for healing.

Still, Todd runs iodine over the cut; lets Dirk grip painfully tight at his arm as he gasps at the pain, long claws leaving crimson pinpoints along Todd’s skin. he tells Dirk to talk as he clumsily attempts to stitch the wound closed before applying trauma bandages, and can’t help the rage that bubbles up inside him as he listens to Dirk vividly describe the feeling of a knife splitting his wing, a disgruntled grocer with no patience or sympathy for an odd, starving creature.

Dirk tells him that he misses being young and carefree, misses his mother, misses the days that he was normal before the curse transformed him into something  _hideous_. His voice is thin and waivers and his words fade away into a series of unintelligible clicks.

Todd doesn’t pull away that night, lets himself be wrapped and bundled up in long, pale limbs that hold him so carefully. He pretends he doesn’t hear Dirk’s miserable snuffling as hot tears leak into his shirt. He just holds this strange cryptid closer, and prays that the wing heals right.

~~~

Staying in the cave for days waiting for the storm to pass, Todd almost forgets that he has a home and a family to get back to.

Almost.

He knows that Dirk won’t want him to leave, why would he? So, Todd attempts to gather his things when Dirk is distracted, but he always ends up quitting when he hears the whines and pleading clicks coming from the dark corner of the cave.

Knowing he won’t be able to bear leaving Dirk behind, Todd settles for the next best thing; he decides to take him home with him.

Besides, what’s even better than a dead cryptid? Answer: a real, live cryptid that can be interviewed on live TV. Maybe they could even find a way to  _fix_  Dirk, to turn him back to normal.

  _That’s right_ , Todd tells himself;  _I’m doing this for his own good_.

Dirk takes some persuading. “We can find a way to lift the curse.” Todd says, “You could live a normal life.” and even “My sister would  _love_ you.”

Finally, cue the huge amount of almost comical trouble Todd goes through to smuggle Dirk back to his apartment. Dirk’s wings strain against the doors of the car and knock over everything in Todd’s apartment, and his long claws absolutely ruin the upholstery of Todd’s already shitty vehicle. Dirk’s not at all used to being in such small places.

When Todd calls his sister she’s immediately relieved to find that he didn’t die in the storm that absolutely ravaged the wilderness, only for him to tell her that the actual situation is much weirder and complicated than that.

Of course Amanda loves Dirk, asking questions with the kind of excitement in her voice that Dirk isn’t at all used to hearing.

Todd, meanwhile, searches for people to reveal Dirk to without having to advertise the fact that he has a nine foot tall bat living in his house.

Eventually he’s approached by a handsome man in a dark suit who really seems to know what he’s doing. He says he can help Dirk, and the sum of money he offers is more than Todd ever thought to ask for.

Todd’s greed and curiosity overtake his skepticism, and by the time he realizes what the mysterious organization the man works for has in store for Dirk, it’s almost too late.

~~~

Dirk doesn’t know where he is. When he wakes up in the cell, the first thing he notices is that for sure Todd isn’t here. He scrabbles around blindly for a bit against nondescript breeze blocks and the cold metal floor, chittering anxiously. It’s a small space, too small for him to spread his wings, cold and impersonal and empty.

All he can do it curl up and wait.

when they come back he tries to tell them it’s a mistake, and he should be with Todd, but all that happens is squeaky latex gloves poke him with a stick that makes his blood sharp and his skin buzz with pain, inject him with something, drag him away.

Its then that the experiments start, poking and prodding and dissecting, letting him heal only to cut the wounds open all over again. He loses all sense of time, marked only by the regular pain and occasional apple tossed his way.

They leave him the cold dark of the cell, to blink hot tears into the darkness and think of Todd, to hope that it’s just a mistake and he’ll come back for him soon. He reminds them each day that he’s not meant to be here, but none of the hands that grab him ever reply.

Todd has to come back, he has to.

He’s so weak he can barely stand, wings atrophied and bones brittle when they finally come crashing through the concrete and metal to take him away. He clings to Todd like a lifetime, gushes praise and thanks at him, that he  _knew_ it was a mistake and Todd was just waiting to comeback from him.

He doesn’t see the angry look Amanda throws Todd in the back of the growling van, doesn’t understand the stuttered, broken apology that the other man spills out, just clings closer to him and breathes in his scent, the smell of  _safety_ and  _home_ , and lets Todd hold him with careful, unworthy hands.

~~~

Dirk’s only been gone a month or two, but from the way he looks it could have been years. His wings, like the rest of him, are thin and withering and sickly. It only takes a glance to know that he might never been able to fly again. His fangs and claws are blackened and brittle and look like they’ve been filed down countless times. There are scars lining every one of his limbs with a range of freshnesses. Todd can’t see them, but he knows that the worst ones are under Dirk’s tattered and blood-stained clothes.

Todd recalls the weeks searching for him after watching the men in military garb and shielded masks stuff Dirk in the back of an armored car without any concern for hurting his wings, which twisted painfully.

And still Todd regrets those days afterward, telling himself that it was for the better as he repaid his debts to his parents, as he bought a new car, as he watched his sister’s disgusted expression when she turned away the money again and again.

What followed was so much regret, regret like nobody could’ve felt before. Todd came to know so many different kinds of tears, hot ones and viscous ones and cold ones and ones that came in the middle of the night and ones that came when he was doing nothing at all. 

He began thinking that if Dirk turned up dead it would be the best case scenario. Because if he wasn’t, what then? Would he ever forgive him? What did he think of him now that he’d performed the greatest betrayal possible? Would he even still  _be_  Dirk?

He went to so many message boards and deep web articles and sketchy websites that they began to blur together. How could he possibly tell fact from fiction? What was a Bigfoot costume full of hamburger meat and what was a legitimate tortured and deformed corpse?

There was one consistency, though: them. The man in the suit was almost as hard to find as the cryptids themselves. Sometimes he was in Arizona, sometimes Canada, and once even in Germany. 

If it weren’t for Amanda he never would’ve found him. Every other moment they were together she felt the need to make it clear that she was only doing it for Dirk, that once they found him she would never speak to him–never even see him–again. It hurt, almost as much as the regret by itself, but Todd knew he deserved it.

He thought that finding Dirk would make up for it; that once they found him everything would be better, but now that Todd was holding his broken body in his unworthy arms he knew it didn’t. Todd’s arms feel like they’re soaked in acid as they wrap around Dirk’s shattered wings—evil and poisonous and wrong. Todd had changed Dirk, and no matter how eternally thankful Dirk would be he would never truly be the same.

Amanda is insistent that Dirk stay with her in the house and Todd agrees; the house is bigger and safer and Todd doesn’t feel like he deserves to be around Dirk any more than necessary for the rescue.

But Dirk doesn’t agree, spends the entire van ride from the CIA to Seattle pressing himself up against Todd as if trying to make up for months of being cold. And Amanda notices;  _glares_  at Todd through the rear view mirror as if daring him to somehow make Dirk feel worse than he already does, so Todd allows himself to hold Dirk while the van echoes with his excited clicks and whirrs.

(It’s almost easier to listen to Dirk’s chirruping than his actual words, because his voice is hoarse from disuse and his words are about cold steel and sharp shiny things that  _hurt_  him for no reason).

The old van finally splutters and dies just as they’re pulling up outside Amanda’s house and Dirk turns to Todd, head cocked questioningly as if to say _no, this isn’t home, this isn’t your apartment_. They manage to get him inside where he stands awkwardly in the foyer, his wings folded in against himself like he’s forgotten how to extend them ( _or it’s too painful to extend them_  Todd’s traitorous brain supplies).

And Todd turns to leave, prompted by his own guilt and Amanda’s accusing stare, but he’s stopped on the doorstep by a distressed fruit bat cryptid with an iron grip on his shirt and a series of high-pitched chirps interspersed with “please”. Todd’s torn, knows he has to tell Dirk the truth about selling him to the CIA, but he decides that it can probably wait until tomorrow. So he turns around and gently unclasps Dirk’s claws from where they’re digging into his back and leads him to the guest bedroom where there’s soft blankets and a bowl of fruit and blessed silence.

Amanda watches them disappear while Dirk natters softly about how he’d missed Todd, how they’d tried to tell him that Todd had given him up but he’d  _known_  that they were lying, and she decides privately that Todd’s  _definitely_  telling Dirk tomorrow, or else she will.

~~~

Imagine the confused hurt that spreads over Dirk’s face as it all clicks into place? That Tod—that his first and only  _friend_ in forever—had sold him to those  _monsters_ ; had let them chain him and experiment on him, had let him wither away. Imagine the tears, imagine him slinking away slightly to disappear back into the forest, shunned by the only person he thought might actually like him. 

Humans, he decides, are all the same. Evil and greedy and selfish. He’s better off alone, as he hears Amanda shouting for him, hears Todd’s voice break, carried on the wind. He’s better off alone, where no one can hurt him. Where no one can exchange him for fame and fortune. He’s safer that way. 

It’s a cold winter, that one. The forests around Seattle aren’t exactly laden with fruit at the best of times, and it’s even worse when the snow starts. Dirk knows he can live off nectar but it’s so unfulfilling, and the knowledge that he’s having to consume insects just to get through another month is horrible.

His wings are healing though. They’re never going to be the same again, but it’s enough that he can shakily lift off the ground (and he tries not to remember that first night in the cave when Todd stitched up his knife wound, how Todd’s voice was shaking but his hands were steady). He finds the dirty remains of the clothes that Todd was wearing when he got caught in that storm and buries them deep in the forest where no-one will ever find them (and where he won’t have to see them).

He’s snowed in for a while and finds he doesn’t care; welcomes the silence and the emptiness, but come Spring he knows he has to emerge again and enter the wider world (even if the wider world is the empty forest with its leafless trees and prickly undergrowth). But then there’s Todd standing awkwardly in the clearing, holding a black shirt with holes cut in it to fit a pair of wings, with a strange look of resignation and desperation and  _hope_  on his face.

His heart tells him to flee, pull away from this scene, flap away shakily, and leave this  _human_  and his pain far, far away. It hurts Dirk’s heart to even look at him, but the expression on his face is regretful and a little piece of  _hope_  stirs dangerously in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t move.

Todd approaches him cautiously, shirt brandished in front of him like a shield, and Dirk can see him watching, waiting for his reaction. He walks forward oh-so-slowly, until Todd is close enough to touch, until he’s close enough to  _smell_ , musky and panicked.

‘Why … why are you here?’ it doesn’t come out as strong as he’d like, voice clicking and warbling as he tails off. Todd sighs and his brow crumples inwards like a balloon deflating.

'I came to apologize. And because—because I want to be your friend, Dirk. I never should have treated you like I did, I let greed get in the way,’ he sighs, eyes flickering off into the forest around them. 'I’m so  _sorry_. Here even if … even if you never want to see me again, have this.’ the t-shirt is shoved at him carefully, and Dirk reaches out to take it, fabric soft against his leathery skin. 'It’s one of my old band t-shirts … I already cut the holes in it but … try to look after it. I don’t have many left.’

Todd takes a step back, shaking his head and starting to twist away. 'I don’t expect you to forgive me. Just please, stay safe.’ he goes to walk away and Dirk feels his hand move, carefully grabbing at Todd’s wrist to stop him going further. The man spins around, shock in his eyes, and stares silently at Dirk. He tries to think of the right words, but there’s nothing to really convey what he needs, nothing that could sum up the way his heartbeat quickens as that wide, blue gaze rests on his face.

’t-thank you for the t-shirt.’ no, that’s not right, not enough. 'I’ve … I’ve never had a friend before.’

Todd’s face shifts into something unreadable and he tries to pull away from Dirk, struggling against his tightening grip. 'I don’t deserve that. I’m a shitty person, you don’t want  _me_ as a friend, Dirk.’ he stubbornly refuses to let go, staring down at the faded grey logo on the black fabric, desperation leaking into his voice. It’s wrong, Todd  _hurt_ _,_ but his heart tells his head to shut up.

'I  _do_  want you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there isn’t a queue of people lining up at the cave entrance to come and see Me.’ his fingers twitch nervously against Todd’s skin. 'I- I forgive you. Besides ill need help putting this shirt on. Would you-?’ he doesn’t ever finish, Todd already flinging his arms around him tightly. It crushes against his fragile ribcage, but he doesn’t push him away. Instead he grips the thin t-shirt tighter and lets the breeze tickle over his wings. It’s not perfect, but it’ll do.

~~~

Todd felt void of hope for a while. He let himself wallow in his own sadness and loneliness and deep  _deep_  regret for way longer than he would ever let himself otherwise. But this time he deserved it, he told himself. He deserved the isolation and the self-hatred more than he ever had, more than when he betrayed his band, or his parents, or even his sister.

He saw the way the CIA had broken Dirk.  _He_ had done that.

He replayed the look on Dirk’s face over and over and over again, the look he had given him when he’d told him the truth. With his fangs in the way it was always hard to read Dirk’s expression, but that look of absolute sadness and betrayal was universal.

Todd thought he could stay like this for the rest of his life, that maybe then he would have gotten what he deserved.

But he knows that isn’t true. He needs to  _do_ something, he needs Dirk to know how sorry he really is, even if he never forgives him.

Todd had never really gotten a handle of the occult, curse lifting especially. It takes his a while to really find what he’s looking for, but he’s determined enough to look for the rest of his life if he has to.

He looks and looks and looks, until he arrives at the moment he’s been waiting for months now.

Todd pulls away from the bony but warm and important hug. The t-shirt is in Dirk’s hands, and Dirk is looking at it with a kind of indescribable expression that says he might even forgive Todd, eventually.

Todd takes his chance, leaning forward and gripping Dirk by his bony, clawed fingers. He says the words he’s been rehearsing for days on end, the ones he hopes will makes things better, if not fix them.

“I found it–if you want it–Dirk.” He whispers, already stumbling over his words. “I found a way to reverse the curse.”

**Author's Note:**

> And then they kissed and lived happily ever after!!  
> some useful links relating to this fic:
> 
> the original post this is based on in it's entirety: http://princessparadoxical.tumblr.com/post/158833014867/quingigillion-farahs-girlfriend
> 
> ANd some cool pieces of fanart by me and tumblr user autisticdetectiveagency:  
> https://farahs-girlfriend.tumblr.com/post/158832534652/cryptiddirk-because-i-need-it-ok-and-because  
> https://autisticdetectiveagency.tumblr.com/post/158856648337/a-bit-of-a-rushed-doodle-page-i-did-for  
> https://farahs-girlfriend.tumblr.com/post/158833597567/i-forgot-to-put-ears-on-the-boi-anyway-heres  
> https://farahs-girlfriend.tumblr.com/post/158834667882/let-them-boys-b-happy-thinkin-of-turning-my


End file.
